


Welcome to Wonderland

by baekb_ae



Category: EXO (Band)
Genre: Alternate Universe - Stripper/Exotic Dancer, Anal Fingering, Anal Sex, Blow Jobs, M/M, Other Additional Tags to Be Added, Plot What Plot/Porn Without Plot, Smut, fuck tags are hard, no kinks yet but soon hopefully??, the good gay shit, we will see
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2016-02-10
Updated: 2016-02-21
Packaged: 2018-05-19 13:01:11
Rating: Mature
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 2
Words: 5,837
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/5968222
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/baekb_ae/pseuds/baekb_ae
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>He watched expectantly, smiling at the ground as he caught himself licking his lips. There was still something young in him, his cheeks flushing as the White Queen made use of the metal pole next to him on stage. Baekhyun drained the last few drops of his drink, throwing his head back, slightly hoping Suho might see and revel in the image. </p><p>a.k.a. that alice in wonderland stripper au</p>
            </blockquote>





	1. White Queen

**Author's Note:**

> OKAY so this is my first fic in a while, and its literally just smut based on a strip club with an alice in wonderland theme !!
> 
> if you guys want, i will start to update the fic ((hopefully)) every two weeks ??
> 
> anyways enjoy the first chapter for now, i think its quite a good one tbh

On rare days, he would see him in the dark room, face lightly illuminated by small flicks of pink, maroon, turquoise lighting; it always changed. He smiled every time Baekhyun caught his view, something manic glinting in his bright green eyes. His hair was snow white, the lighting casting long alternating shadows on it, much like painting on a blank canvas.

 The music was never too much, and the whisper was just loud enough for Baekhyun to hear it over the boosted bass, “They’re all kind of mad, here. Don’t you think?”

He spun around, just quick enough to catch the man’s feline eyes widen slightly before closing to issue a sly wink, then strolling to the bartender situated to the left of the gloomy venue, chatting. The dark blue suit fit the man’s posture well, the tie never loosened like other clients’ often were. It gave him a sense of wonder, and mystery.

He was never seen with any of the strippers, and Baekhyun had never heard any mention of a real name; Goyang-i hardly sounding like anything plausible. Baekhyun made for the bar, slightly slurring his feet toward the two men, letting his eyes trail over the audience watching a beautiful light body that belonged to one of the boys on stage, performing. He dismissed them, although he remembered the smaller one was good with his tongue.

His gaze turned to his target again, swerving his hips along one of the big, plush chairs occupied by this businessman and that, but he’d gone. The bartender’s focus was now on another client, asking for the Friday special, but the young man had vanished, almost as if he had disappeared through the smoke coming from the bartender’s lit cigarette.

Baekhyun leant on the surface of the bar with both of his elbows, single bright lights illuminating the dark marble surface in circles. His dress-shirt sleeves were rolled up to his elbows, top buttons undone, his jacket and tie left at his seat. He remembered Suho liked that on him.

The bartender fixated him with a small curl at his lips; left hand cleaning the mixing area, other holding his white cigarette, “And what can I get you?”

“Number Four, please,” Baekhyun smirked back.

“Any specials?”

“Not tonight.” He couldn’t. Not when he had a project to present tomorrow evening.

“Next time,” Yixing knew Baekhyun’s schedule by now.

The bartender placed his cigarette between his lips, and let it hang there as his hands went along the counter to find the bottles he needed. His hands moved swiftly, routinely, small clouds of smoke escaping his lips every now and then. He placed a clear glass container in front of Baekhyun. The bottle held a little tag at the neck labeled ‘Drink Me’, the red liquid promising no good ending for Baekhyun.

“Thanks. Put it on my card,” Baekhyun nodded at the black haired man.

“Be careful. Don’t shrink.”

* * *

Baekhyun pulled the cork form the bottle, a soft ‘plop’ emanating from it. He brought it to his lips with his right hand, the teal spurs of light making the crimson liquid look almost indigo: more deep, sensual. The tune of Exid’s ‘Ah Yeah’ drifted through the vicinity of the club, into Baekhyun’s ears, and he could already feel the kick. That kick he knew too well, loved.

_Where do you live?_

Down the rabbit hole. Two lean bodies graced the stage, bathed in brick, scarlet, ruby; covered only in pink and black striped suit pants. Suspenders were hooked to the hips, hanging around the sides of their legs.

There were a few cheers, encouragements, beggars asking to be pleased. Baekhyun knew the routine by now, the two men on stage having graced him more than once on a sleepless night he didn’t want to spend alone. The beat hastened, and their hips started to run with the waves of light shooting through the club, their body rolls a dance move to die for.

_Ah Yeah Ah Yeah_

He watched expectantly, smiling at the ground as he caught himself licking his lips. There was still something young in him, his cheeks flushing as the White Queen made use of the metal pole next to him on stage. Baekhyun drained the last few drops of his drink, throwing his head back, slightly hoping Suho might see and revel in the image.

His eyes trailed along the lean muscles that contracted with each hip thrust that was made, their skin glistening: Suho’s white as snow. Bakehyun’s queen.

He knew how hungry he was, almost embarrassed at how much he longed for Suho’s body, lean and clean cut, beautifully pale in just the right shade of cream. He knew the boy had many clients, but couldn’t help thinking that Baekhyun was his favourite. He guessed he got off on it, being special to someone with a job like that. He hoped at least a little that Suho didnt do all of it for the money, more for satisfaction. Baekhyun wanted satisfaction.

Suho rolled his hips, bones shaped like a V jutting out like little sandbanks along his pale pelvis. His hand travelled down, along the subtle hills of his stomach, down to--- _Ah, Yeah._

His arm went further: the inside of his thigh, snaking around, until his hand found the beginning of the suspenders he was wearing. His thumb pulled them up, moving the fabric onto his shoulder, and Baekhyun couldn't help but marvel at the craters of Suhos collarbones. His gut piled up with warmth, making the description of 'sick to his stomach' find a whole other meaning. He wanted him.

Baekhyun caught himself tapping his long fingers on the side of his seat, whether it was out of impatience or to the beat of the song, he couldn’t really tell himself.

The song went into its last chorus, Baekhyun could tell. He knew it well enough, it was a favourite among these types of clubs.

_Do what you want, that’s what makes me comfortable_

There it was. Baekhyun found his wallet in his right pant pocket, fingering out a crisp 50,000 won note. He let his index and thumb fold it in half, and stood up to wander toward the edge of the stage where Suho was panting. The other stripper had already went to the edge of the stage when the song ended, talking to one of his clients, one Baekhyun had seen a couple of times before. His elbows found the cold, silver metal that surrounded the brim of the stage, and he called out a small "Hey".

"Oh, Hi," Suho responded with that usual smirk. His hand ran through his slightly sweaty hair, body covered in a tinge of peacock blue.

"Got some time for me?" Baekhyun smiled, and stuck up his hand with the money in Suho’s direction.

"I always got time for you, baby," Suho had to lean down to grab the yellow paper, and kept eye contact with Baekhyun as he stood back up and put the money in his waistband, slowly.

"In five, at the usual?" Suho nodded his head in response, his chest still rising and falling with a small lack of control.

Baekhyun simply smirked back in return. Dangerous.

* * *

Baekhyun digs his hands into the waistband on Suho’s pants, grabbing his ass like he means it. He leans comfortably into the fluffy black couch, the weight of the other man dawning on his lap. They kiss, both searching for dominance, until Suho falters under Baekhyun’s insistent touch. A quiet moan escapes his lips, and Suho’s reaction is immediate. He rocks his hips forward, friction causing that familiar warmth to return in his stomach. He’s already half hard and they’ve only been making out for three minutes, tops.

“Did you like my show today?” Suho whispers against his neck, his breath leaving behind moisture on his skin.

Baekhyun nods as he pulls on Suho’s bottom lip, letting go of the kiss, “You were so fucking hot up there”.

Suho’s eyes are dark, and Baekhyun doesn’t really know if he finds anything more than a downward spiral of lust in them: falling, falling. He revels in the image. The drink starts to hit him, and he leans more into the couch, it feels soft and pliable under his hands: like Suho.

 He let’s go of the kiss, pushes Suho’s weight off of him with two flat hands, trailing them down his pale torso, and whispers, “Dance for me”.

Suho eases off of him, and Baekhyun almost moans at the loss of warmth on the outsides of his thighs. The pale boy steps back, and rolls his hips at the dark bass that sounds with the beat that fills the heavy room, making his way back to Baekhyun’s lap bit by bit. He places two hands on his thighs, and stops Baekhyun’s as he reaches for them to close the gap between their bodies, shaking his head.

“No touching,” Suho urges into his client’s neck. Baekhyun whimpers at the restraint, but remains pliant. _It’s all about control with this one._

Suho pushes Baekhyun’s thighs apart with his knee, and starts to move his hips at an agonising pace, meeting the beat of the song two times slower. His hand moves to Baekhyun’s chest, pointer and middle finger grazing the patch of skin at his collar bones from where the shirt remained unbuttoned, holding himself steady. Suho’s fingers send a charge of electricity through Bakehyun’s body, and he makes his pleasure known with a whimper. Suho lets the movement of his body travel down, grinding on Baekhyun with steady breathing on his neck, illuminated by a purple haze.

Baekhyun wants to touch him so badly. Suho’s skin is glowing under the lighting of the room, and the slow paced bass of Dean’s Pour Up isn’t helping his general situation. Suho moves his hips up again, and let’s his covered dick drag over Baekhyun’s thigh, smirking as the businessman let’s out another groan of pleasure.

Baekhyun throws his head back, as if punched by a waft of humid air. Everything around him becomes warmer by the second, and he questions whether that’s due to the drink or the stripper in his lap. Suho stifles the whimper that comes out of his clients’ mouth with another kiss through his chilling lips, and Baekhyun thinks he could come just from the boy’s expertise in lap dances, but he didn’t pay extra for it to be so messy and uncoordinated.

Baekhyun leans up into Suho, let’s his right hand trail up his back and into his hair, grabbing and pulling back with a small hiss from the other man. He takes control of the kiss again, let his tongue explore Suho’s mouth: peppermint. It fits with the hair, platinum blonde, almost as white as freshly fallen snow, mirroring his complexion. It lets a shiver run down his spine as he leaves his hair and gives Suho’s ass another squeeze, bucking his hips onto him, eager for contact.

“Down,” he whispers into his ear, trailing the sensitive spot behind it with his front teeth.

Suho let’s out a small chuckle and let’s his hand wander to his client’s crotch, “Don’t worry, let me take care of you, baby”.

Baekhyun moves his hips into Suho’s touch with urgency. He lets his gaze travel over the room as Suho gets onto his knees. There are cushions everywhere, white and plush and soft: snow. He thinks it would be nice to lie in them, be covered in them, sinking into them. Suho forces his mind back into reality as he makes to unbutton the black business-suit pants. Baekhyun looks down onto him, and wets his lips in anticipation.

Suho is palming his dick through Baekhyun’s trousers, and finally pushes the underwear down so that his cock lies against his stomach. Suho leans up again and and takes it into his mouth, the moan he receives from Baekhyun only encouraging him. Baekhyun decides to guide his right hand through Suho’s icy hair, pulling slightly. Suho growls in response, making Baekhyun twitch and tremble through the vibrations.

Suho licks up, along the thin blue vein, easily visible in contrast to Baekhyun’s pink skin tone, as Baekhyun groans in response to Suho pulling in the tip and releasing it with a soft ‘plop’. He takes it in again, running his stretched lips up and down once more, touching the base every time. Practice makes perfect, after all.

Suho let’s go once more, kissing eagerly at every expanse of illuminated skin on Baekhyun’s thighs; a small, “baby, you’re gorgeous,” escaping his mouth.

Baekhyun let’s out a breath he hadn’t been aware of holding before, and a mellow chuckle is let out of his throat in response. Suho looks up at Baekhyun with expectant eyes, knowing the effect it will have on his client, and goes back to taking in his cock with urgency. Baekhyun knows better than to lift his hips, and in turn angles his chest away from the couch, breathing out a string of swears, praises, encouragements in beats.

His head starts spinning now, and he closes his eyes to savour the moment. He sees red and white swirls along the insides of his eyes, reminding his of the spirals on a candy cane. Suho slowly begins to quicken his pace with ease and just as much precision as before, placing his hand at the base of Baekhyun’s dick and gently stroking the side with his free thumb. The small gesture makes Baekhyun whimper, and he can barely manage his, “Fuck, I’m going to come”.

Suho slows down a beat once more at this information, and stops his thumb to add the use of his right hand. The red and white hues melt together to form a pale rose cloud behind Baekhyun’s eyes, and he whimpers again at the repeated use of Suho’s tongue against the slit of his head.

Baekhyun lets out a stifled moan as he comes into Suho’s mouth, swallows and licks at the head a few more times to ride out the orgasm. Suho’s thumb wipes across his bottom lip, whose right side is pulled up into a smirk as he straightens up, still on his knees. Baekhyun shoots out his hand to grab Suho’s chin, and pulls his mouth on his. He can taste himself on his tongue, and kisses frivolously as the music drones on, enjoying the spit trail connecting them as they part.

Baekhyun pulls a hand through Suho’s hair again, exposing his neck to place another kiss near his ear, muttering a final, “thanks, pet,” against his light skin for reverence.

He curtly places another money note into the waistband of Suho’s pants, which he had grabbed form his pocket earlier, and peels off his suit jacket from the cream sofa as he stands up. He pulls up his pants, fiddling with his zipper, and securing his belt as it was earlier, before strolling out of the room in a cold daze.


	2. Tweedle Dum

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> As the song faded out, Chanyeol stood up and steered his lanky legs toward the front of the stage, “You free?”.
> 
> The man looked down at him through the chocolate brown curls falling over his eyes and looked up to smirk at the entrance of the club before answering, “Oh, I got all night for you, baby”.
> 
> All Chanyeol could focus on was the beads of sweat running down his torso.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> second chapter wow
> 
> i was gonna add some kinky shit but i decided to wait since i had three chapters left toward the end of this so keep up the reading for more shit
> 
> i haven't read over the like last third of this, i just kinda wanted to get this uploaded so i apologize for awkward wording or grammar mistakes etc. at times
> 
> sorry if the last part is a bit rushed, imma go over it tomorrow but i need sleep holy hell
> 
> anyway, i hope you enjoy!!

 

Chanyeol pulled his coat closer toward his body, guiding his hands to his neck and pulling up the collar to shield his already cool skin from the chilling wind. He slid his hands back into his pockets as the traffic light illuminated a small silhouette of a green man, and started to walk again. His blood-red hair bobbed up and down over his forehead with every step, and he made sure to grab onto his wallet and keys to secure them. 

 

_Friday._ He had just returned from a hell of a business meeting at Seoul Records, and was clearly not in the fucking mood for anything. Although, he was in a _fucking_ mood: stress relief, they say. He decided he’d been to dingy bars one too many times, and made his way to a club he’d heard about through a work friend; interesting conversation, that was. 

 

He fished out his phone from his left coat pocket, and checked the address again. Apparently he was close, and lifted his head to search for anything that screamed ‘Strip Club!’, but ended his search without success. Locking his phone, he decides to simply keep on going straight, if his sense of direction was anything to go by. Thanks, Siri. 

 

About two metres away from him, he could see a small teal glow on the grey pavement, and wondered if he had made it to his destination. He continued, craning his neck to see if this was the right place, and slowed his pace until he stood in front of a sign that read ‘Welcome to Wonderland’. There were two other men standing outside, smoking. The smoke trailed up into the cool night air, mixing with the light teal of the sign, matching the dark blue night sky. Chanyeol watched it until the haze was gone, and made his way to the door, pushing tentatively. 

 

There was a long corridor, the sides covered in mirrors, with small singular lights that emitted a soft pink glow trailing along the floor, guiding the way. Chanyeol slouches a bit, uncomfortable at the unfamiliar loneliness, when he sees someone standing in the corridor in front of him. He continues on, and lets the figure meet him halfway. It’s a man, slightly smaller than Chanyeol, dressed in a blood-red vest, a pocket watch hanging from his hand, swinging from side to side. Tick. Tock. 

 

“Do you know what time it is?” the man asks. Chanyeol remembers when he checked his phone earlier: 10:37. 

 

“Midnight,” he replies, a small question laced under the statement. His co-worker Luhan had told him someone would ask for the time, told him what to reply. 

 

Apparently he wasn’t crazy, since the bodyguard turned away from Chanyeol and simply said, “Follow me”. 

 

Chanyeol noticed the hue of the lights becoming darker as the man led him farther down the corridor, up to a black double door, with two large ornate silver handles. They were covered in flowers, and Chanyeol waited for the man to push them open. His right hand gestured for Chanyeol to enter, and he passed into the next room with a small twist of his chest toward the man. 

 

Chanyeol stopped as he saw what was inside, and barely registered the man behind him say “Welcome to Wonderland;” which was not inaccurate.

 

Everything was illuminated in small lights, while the stage was graced by a purple tint, deserted for the moment. To his right, Chanyeol saw a bar, round black marble that seemed to glow through more of the isolated lights, with a bartender who was covered in a slight fog, or maybe Chanyeol just needed a pair of glasses. There were plush, cream coloured chairs littered around the stage, short tables graced with a few businessmen and their various drinks. 

 

A man started to approach them, and just as Chanyeol wanted to turn toward the bodyguard, he was gone already. The man approaching him now was also dressed rather formally: black suit jacket, dark jeans, blood red Doc Martens…and a homburg-style hat. It suited him, the hat sitting on the back of his head, so that his orange-tinged hair -parted in the middle- was visible in the overhead lighting. 

 

“Your first time here?” He held out his hand, and Chanyeol took it with a smile.

 

“Yes. I heard about this club from a colleague,” the man almost seemed to enjoy the exclusivity of the club. Odd. 

 

“Who?”

 

“My friend Luhan, he visits sometimes,” Chanyeol felt the other man staring at him for too long, and had the impulse to remove his hand. 

 

It was almost like the man had awoken from a trance, “Ah, of course! I hope he mentioned me to you. Kim Jongin. Manager”.

 

Yeah. Luhan had mentioned him, and his whole demeanour made more sense to Chanyeol now, “Nice to meet you”. 

 

“Anyway,” Jongin mentioned with a smile at the floor “ready for teatime?”

 

Jongin gestured toward one of the plush couches with his right hand, and Chanyeol followed suit. He nodded in response. Chanyeol let himself find comfort in the cushions, and took his jacket off to let it rest on the arm of the chair. Jongin leaned over slightly, and uttered a quiet “Enjoy,” before moving on, disappearing from sight.

 

Chanyeol looked around, put his hands next to him on the seat; everything was incredibly soft. His right hand found his jacket, and fingered to pull his wallet out of the pocket: he might as well get a drink before another show started. He pushed himself up, and let his hands trail to his collar once again. He flipped it up, and loosened his red silk tie to slip it over his head, putting it around his left hand and stuffing it into his pant pocket. 

 

He turned to locate the bar, situated at his left behind him. He strolled in the direction of the bartender carefully, waving his way through chairs and sofas that stood in his way. He put his hands on the cold, dark stone as he reached the counter. 

 

“Can I smoke in here?” he questioned at the black haired man, pointing his index finger in the direction of the cigarette that hung from his lips.

 

“You can do almost anything with anyone in here,” the bartender mused with a sly smile and a singular raised brow. It made Chanyeol smile back. 

“Do you sell cigarettes?” He had left his in the car, not thinking he would be able to smoke in a strip club. Although, he had already gotten the idea that this was something much more elite.

 

“Cigarettes, alcohol, weed, ecstasy, you name it. I’ve got everything that could make you go a little _mad_ ,” he said the last word as if it was something forbidden, something that most people would thirst for. 

 

Chanyeol considered him. Elite, and illegal, apparently. Although, he couldn’t say he wasn't intrigued, the three people he had met in the vicinity were already more interesting than his whole office put together. He decided to go along with it. 

 

“Could I have a pack of Bohem, lighter, and a drink recommendation, for now?” Chanyeol challenged.

 

His hand reached down behind the bar, and laid a small teal packet onto the counter, “Bohem,” then continued to reach over toward the end of the bar against the wall to grab a small metal rectangle, “Lighter,” and finally stopped to lean over the counter toward Chanyeol, “and a Piña Colada”. 

 

“A Piña Colada,” Chanyeol laughed at the simple offer that sounded to incredulously out of place.

 

The bartender in front of him shrugged, “It’s my favourite”. 

 

“Alright,” Chanyeol shot him a teasing gaze, and watched as the bartender began to lean back and fix him his order. He seemed so skilled, and Chanyeol enjoyed his toned arms, tantalising him through slightly see-through, white dress shirt for the moment. He had to smile as the other got out a glass that looked like a coconut, placing a pink straw, cocktail umbrella, and fruit covered-toothpick on top of the drink as he filled up the bowl. 

 

“Looks nice,” Chanyeol nodded at the drink. 

 

“Let’s hope you like White Rum”.

 

***

 

He threw himself back into his chair, right hand hanging over his jacket located on the armrest, cigarette dangling from his thin, pale fingers. The lights danced off of the filter between them, and his eyes got caught on the way the white paper made the colours shine. The music grew louder, and he nodded his head up toward the stage as he took another drag. Two boys came out, both wearing black suit bottoms that reached their knees, monochrome striped socks that reached the edge of their pants, and a red bow tie. 

 

The outfit was oddly pleasing. Their hair was curly, hanging over their forehead in an all-too sultry manner. Both pretty, they knew how many people wanted them, and showed it. Jay Park began to drift through the speakers, and into the vicinity like smoke. The first few notes sounded like drops of water making contact with the floor, and the two men began to dance.

 

_언제 언제 when_

 

The taller one moved his hips, and immediately caught Chanyeol’s attention. He had this lopsided smirk on him, and closed his eyes while he danced. It made him look like someone who begged for pleasure when he did so, like it got him some type of satisfaction. Chanyeol let his eyes trail over his body, rather on the gaunt side, but paired with attention-seeking hips. 

 

Chanyeol hadn’t realised he was staring so intently until the man caught his eye, and started running his hand down his abdomen, never breaking contact. He finally let go of his gaze, and went to perform a bit of choreography with his partner on stage. They stood back to back, and lowered their hips in time to the beat, but much too slowly for it to be a fair game. 

 

The impact of their hips moving together in time seemed like a huge wave crashing onto a cruise ship in double time. A cold shiver hit Chanyeol at the thought, and he was now unwavering about the taller stripper. They made to separate again to reach the poles present on stage, and his partner gave the stripper a slap on his ass. He let his head fall back, closing his eyes, and his mouth hung open slightly. Under the light, his slightly tanned skin emitted a golden glow.

 

Once he brought his chin back down, rubbing at the soft spot with his right hand, he looked directly at Chanyeol, his eyes telling a much too elaborate story. 

 

언제 언제 _when_

 

The boy on stage found the metal pole, and wrapped his torso tight around it, legs on either side. He held on with his right hand, and let his body fall back, as if into a pile of feathers. He let his hips grind up repeatedly, each thrust slower than the one before. His head fell back again, almost as if by its own accord, and Chanyeol could see a line of bruises running down the bottom of his neck to his collar bone. 

 

Chanyeol suddenly remembered his forgotten cigarette as he felt a more intense warmth near his fingers. He had let it burn almost all the way down, and would have been annoyed for wasting it if the circumstances would have been different. He put it out in the ashtray, watching the gleam of the bud fade in a small tuft of smoke. 

 

He took his wallet from the table, and let his hands emerge with four 50,000 won notes. The prices were given to him by the bartender, Yixing, earlier. He hoped he would get his money worth. Although, he didn’t think that was really something he had to worry about.

 

_언제까지 when_

 

As the song faded out, Chanyeol stood up and steered his lanky legs toward the front of the stage, “You free?”.

 

The man looked down at him through the chocolate brown curls falling over his eyes and looked up to smirk at the entrance of the club before answering, “Oh, I got all night for you, baby”. 

 

All Chanyeol could focus on was the beads of sweat running down his torso.

 

***

 

They were in one of the rooms that were unseen in the back of the club, connected to it through a small door to the left of the stage. Like small apartments, they had a bedroom, again lit up by alternating shades of indigo, teal, and midnight blue. A king sized bed stood to the farthest wall, and a huge floor-length mirror replaced the opposite side. It created quite a nice visual, Chanyeol thought. 

 

He was led in by the stripper -Chen, he learned- by his left arm, and cornered him against a patch of wall next to the door once it shut. Chen smirked up at him again, his angular eyes flitting between Chanyeol’s lips and pupils. It made Chanyeol’s gut pool with warmth, and he couldn’t help but lean down to bite on the markings he had seen on Chen’s collar earlier.

 

The moan it elicited from him made Chanyeol growl against his skin, “God, I could fuck you up against the wall right now”. 

 

Chen simply answers in a whimper. Chanyeol’s hands travel down the lean body breathing hard underneath him, and snake back to palm at Chen’s ass. He pulls him against his erection, and Chen complies to rut against him with slow thrusts of his hips. Their breathing is matching by now, and Chanyeol moves his hands up again to cup Chen’s face and pull him in for a sloppy kiss with a beautiful excess of spit and tongue. 

 

“Bed. Now,” Chen mutters as they part, and unbuttons his shirt before surging Chanyeol forward with a small push from his hands.

 

Chanyeol complies, and sits on the edge of the bed before petting his thigh with his left hand, “Come”. 

 

Chen sits, both his knees on the outsides of Chanyeol’s thighs, and lets his fingers run through the blood-red strands. His hair is silky, and he gets caught up in the beautiful highlights that the soft blue lighting leaves in it. Chanyeol’s hands pull his hips forward again, and he’s once more distracted by him sucking on his neck. 

 

Chen pushes him forward, and Chanyeol lands on the bed gently, the mattress light as a feather. He sits himself up, so his back is against the cushions at the head of the bed, and watches Chen in the mirror as he crawls up to close the distance. Chen straddles his lap again, and his fingers start to find his belt buckle as Chanyeol runs his hands down his sides, pecking at his jaw, muttering small encourages and compliments.

 

He unbuttons Chanyeol’s pants, and Chanyeol lifts his hips as Chen moves back a bit to push them down. Chanyeol closes his eyes at the cool air that hits his cock as it lies against his stomach. Chen takes it in his right hand, and gives it two slow strokes before running his index over the leaking pre-come. He takes his hand up and sucks his finger in, licking away at it with a soft moan and hooded eyes. 

 

Chanyeol feels like he’s going to vomit. He moves his left hand to Chen’s mouth and he takes his thumb in, hollowing his cheeks to add to the pull. Chanyeol curves his remaining fingers around Chen’s jaw, and pulls him in for another kiss. He bites the others lip, and takes his hands down to work at the button of Chen’s shorts. 

 

“Wait,” he says as he makes to move off of Chanyeol, and sits on the side of the bed to take off his shoes, socks, and pants. He leaves the bow-tie. 

 

Chen’s skin is slightly lighter than the rest of his golden figure where his briefs would usually sit, and Chanyeol marvels at his light dick. He pats back to Chanyeol’s lap, and kisses at his earlobe, nibbling, he whispers, “Can I ride you?”

 

Chanyeol releases a groan he would have been ashamed of in any other situation, “Lie down,” he commands.

 

Chen moves off to lie in front of him, legs spread, and tells him, “Lube is in the night desk”.

 

Chanyeol leans over to open the drawer, and pulls out a small red bottle -strawberry flavour, he notices- and a single condom ( _oooh, vanilla scented)._ He drops some lube onto his index and thumb of his right hand, and makes to find Chen’s entrance. Chen lets out a small gasp at the cold of his fingers as Chanyeol slips the first one in. 

 

Chanyeol, watches Chen the whole time, the way his hips move back onto his fingers beautifully distracting. He adds another finger, and starts to curl the upwards, trying to find his prostate. He smirks when Chen releases a low moan, knowing he’s found the spot where Chen needs it most. 

 

Chen pushes his hand into Chanyeol’s hair as he kisses the insides of his thighs with feathery kisses, “I- _ah_ -I’m ready. Let me”.

 

Chen sits up on his knees as Chanyeol leans back again, and lets his hands find the condom. He rolls it down onto Chanyeol’s dick. The feeling of Chen’s hands on him makes his head lean back, and he feels a bit of the alcohol from earlier kick in. He feels Chen over him, straddling him again, as he positions himself over Chanyeol and sinks down in an agonising pace. He looks ahead and watches Chen’s back contract in the mirror at the filling sensation. 

 

Chen leans into Chanyeol, and the older moves his hands onto Chen’s ass, massaging the cheeks before he lifts his right hand and brings it down fast. Chen moans as he moves toward Chanyeol and leans his forehead into his neck. 

 

“You like that? Huh? You’re doing so well”.

 

“Do it again”. 

 

Chanyeol slaps his ass again, and it gains him another moan from the man in his lap. Chen breathes out a small “shit,” as Chanyeol rubs at the sensitive area, and starts to move through his thighs. It’s Chanyeol’s turn to moan at Chen’s heat and friction around him. He hisses as Chen quickens his pace, sucking at his jaw again, hands fondling his wine-coloured hair. 

 

“You’re so tight,” he praises as he settles into the cushions, enjoying Chen’s work. 

 

He starts rocking his hips into Chen as his orgasm starts to rise, and he feels the need to get release. For a while, all you can hear is their joined, ragged breathing, and it rings like music in Chanyeol’s ears. He groans again as Chen slows down his pace slightly in protest.

 

“Come on, baby, come for me,” Chen whispers to Chanyeol through ragged breaths, and his voice sounds so fucked through it gets him close enough.

 

He tensed under Chen as he comes with a low growl. Chen smirks up at him, pleased with his work, and grinds his hips slowly to ride out his orgasm. Chanyeol evens out his breathing, tapping his left fingers on Chen’s thigh to signal him to get off his lap. Chen steps off, grabbing a dark red silk robe from one of the hooks on the back of the door, and pulling it over his shoulders as Chanyeol slides off the bed and pulls the condom off to throw it in the small trash can next to the other side of the bed.

 

He pulls up his pants, threading his belt through the loops again, and closes the four lowest buttons up on his shirt. He runs a hand through his hair as he takes a few lazy strides toward the door. His left hand finds the handle, and he leans over to Chen, steadied against the wall, to place another kiss on his soft lips. 

 

“Thanks,” he mutters after he pulls away, and opens the door to return to his seat. 

**Author's Note:**

> lol follow me on tumblr (benadickted) or twitter (baekb_ae) if u want and comments are appreciated xo


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